“Your razor? Why? Why would I need your—”
“What the hell do I know why you needed it! I want—”
“And I wasn’t in your room, Mr. Dalton,” she protested, wishing he would have stopped at the doorway, but he was following her inside.
Mace forgot about his razor. He snatched up the remains of her nightgown. “What’s this? Didn’t you cut this up?” he yelled, shaking the cloth he held in one fist in front of her.
“I used a scissor,” she returned, trying to snatch the cloth from his hand.
Her hair swung free, covering his hand, and before Erin could stop him, he dropped the cloth and caught a handful of her hair.
“Erin, I—”
“Please don’t—”
They both began at once, then stopped and stared.
Erin’s lips were slightly parted over her unvoiced protest. Mace remembered the fleeting taste of her mouth. A taste that he still craved to have. His gaze fell from her mouth to the pulse beating wildly in the hollow of her throat, down to the creamy skin revealed by the two undone buttons. He moved without thought, driven by need, crowding her against the dresser, sliding his hand through the thickness of her hair to cup the back of her head and hold her still.
“What is it that you don’t want, Erin,” he whispered against her mouth. “Don’t want me to touch you? Not to kiss you? Tell me,” he insisted, already sealing her lips with his.
There was no gentle coaxing this time. The sensations spilled through her, more forceful this time. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t stop him. All she managed was a trembling that started deep inside her and spread so that she knew he could feel it. She clung to the strength of his bare arms, drawing his warmth into herself.
Mace’s hands shifted when he felt her trembling and the giving softness of her body against his. Erin was not going to refuse him; the desire that had already claimed him was making its claim on her. He picked her up and carried her to the single bed, lowering her to the soft feather mattress and following her down.
His tongue thrust deeply into her mouth, filling her until she arched up to him, her hands clenched in his hair to hold his mouth to hers. The kiss deepened even more, and she felt his harsh groan as much as she heard it when he flattened her beneath him, letting her know every bit of his muscular weight.
The need to draw breath forced Mace to lift his head. He gazed down at her lashes, which fluttered but never quite settled. “Am I too heavy for you?” he asked, his voice rough with passion.
Erin shook her head, flexing her fingers in his hair. Mace brushed aside her hair, lowering his head again, but his gaze fell on the cloth above her head. There was no mistaking the shape and size of the small gown. That’s what she had cut out from her own nightgown. Clothes for her baby.
With a groan that was torn from deep inside him, he rolled off her, stunned for a moment and unable to order his body to move.
Bewildered, Erin turned on her side, raising herself by leaning on her elbow, and saw the gown. With effort, she managed to get up. There was no need to ask him what was wrong. She knew. What she wished for was the courage to demand that he leave her room and never come into it again.
The words remained unspoken.
Her body ached for the second time today. With jerky moves she began to gather her hair, blindly finding the discarded pins on the dresser, managing to coil and pin it in place. With fingers that shook, she buttoned her gown, trying to ignore the sound of his harsh breathing behind her. Snatching up her apron, she tied it and without looking at him left her room.
Mace went to the Grange meeting in town and with him went the tension that had made supper a silent meal. Ketch had lit the fire in the parlor, lingering as if he wanted to talk, but Erin was in no mood for anyone but the children.
She had a copybook of her own that she intended to share with them.
Erin knew she did not want than to learn as she had, without praise and with swift punishment for failure. She thought of a way to make this a game, one in which she could learn as much as Becky and Jake.
Stretched out on the floor, Erin placed the inkwell and pen she had borrowed from Mace’s desk in front of the copybook.
“Now, as I explained to you both, we will think of as many things that are used or on the ranch that begin with the letter a. If a word comes up that I don’t know, I’ll depend on you to help me understand what it is.”
“Do we get a prize for getting the most words?” Becky asked.
“Hands will hurt,” Jake whispered from the other side.
“No, Jake. They’re much better now. I can manage to use the pen.” Twisting to look at Becky, who was on her stomach, legs swinging in the air, chin propped up on both hands, Erin admitted that she hadn’t thought of a prize. “It really wouldn’t be fair, Becky. I don’t know as much as you.”
“But Jake does. Anyway, you’re not little like us so you’d have to know lots more. Papa said grown-ups are the smartest—”
“I’m sure he believes he’s right,” Erin said quickly, unwilling to get into a discussion of Mace. She needed to put him out of mind, just as he was out of sight.
“Me first,” Jake said.
“All right,” Erin answered, pen dipped and poised to write.
“Airtights.”
“That’s two words. No fair, Jake,” Becky protested.
“Ketch says one,” the boy answered, looking at Erin to settle the matter.
“Maybe if you explained to me what airtights means—”
“Don’t know. It’s what Ketch calls canned goods.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll guess it’s one word. That all right with you, Becky?”
“I’ll allow it.”
“And have you thought of one of your own?”
“Apples, I guess. No, wait, apron.”
Erin wrote both words in her neat hand.
“Will you show me how to make letters?”
“Me, too,” Jake added, not to be outdone by his sister.
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll teach you how to read. I saw a bookstore in town and when Ketch goes in, I’ll have him buy us a book.”
“With pictures?”
Erin reached over and tousled Jake’s hair. “We’ll tell him to make sure and look for one with them.”
Later, when they were ready to be tucked into bed, Erin hugged and kissed each child, surprised when Becky moved aside for her to sit on the bed.
“I want to tell you that I’m glad you came here. You bring lots of smiles and good things, Erin.” With slender arms she hugged Erin and then snuggled beneath her quilt.
Pressing another kiss on her brow, Erin cherished the words in her heart. If only Mace could see her with his daughter’s eyes. She stopped herself from thinking about him yet again and made her way to her room. With the lamp lit and the fire in the small wood stove banked for the night, she settled herself to finish Jake’s shirt and begin work on her baby’s gown.
She was still awake when Mace finally came home, his unsteady footsteps alarming her that he might be hurt. Before she could get her wrapper on, she heard Ketch’s door open, listened as he called out softly to Mace and received a slightly slurred reply.
Had she caused him to drink? Despair filled her. She wanted a man who didn’t want her. Erin returned to bed, vowing to redouble her efforts to stay out of his way.
Mace had other ideas.
Chapter Twelve
Dousing his head with cold water to clear the liquor-induced pounding of his head this morning, Mace was forced to come to a few decisions. They all concerned Erin.
After the Grange meeting last night, he had stayed to share a few rounds of drinks with his fellow ranchers. In silence, he had suffered their congratulations about his marriage. But what stirred his anger and jealousy so close to the surface these days was Cosi. Cosi and his bragging about Erin. She was a wonderful cook. Her pies were to be sure winners at the next fair. Pies? What pies? Mace had never
tasted a pie she made. Then Cosi had showed off the tiny neat stitches with which she had mended the tear in his best shirt. The man talked about her smile and how pretty she was, and what a sweet voice she had when she sang. That last irked Mace as much as the pies did. He had never heard Erin sing. When had Cosi? Then the teasing began from the other men. Mace had better watch out or Cosi was likely to steal his bride.
For a moment or two he was tempted to tell Cosi to try. He could have her and her child. But the words never came. What did come was the decision that he had better keep Cosi away from her. He didn’t want to fire Cosi any more than he wanted to get rid of Pete. Ray, to his credit, hadn’t said much about her, but Mace didn’t doubt for a minute that the man would praise her if asked.
The little lady would have to stop trying to work her wiles on his hired help. He’d be the only one around. So if she needed help, she’d just have to come to him
She was his responsibility. He couldn’t forget that air of innocence about her. Didn’t she admit that the bank clerk had seduced her without trying? Somehow, much as he hated to admit it, he believed her. Cosi was a hard worker, but he fancied himself a real ladies’ man. Erin wouldn’t understand how a man might feel she was leading him on with her smiles and the thoughtful things she did for him
Wiping the water from his face, Mace stared at himself in the mirror. He had enough to contend with. He was not going to have his wife gossiped about. So, he hadn’t been the soul of kindness—that didn’t excuse her for looking for a bit of comfort from any other man who was handy.
She was his wife. For better or worse. She owed it to him to be respectful and obedient.
And what about what you owe her? a small voice nagged as he turned away from his reflection and donned his shirt.
He’d done his share. She had a home. Plenty of food. He would never beat her, as some mea treated their wives, though he had more reason than most. His ranch was thriving. He let her do things her way.
And never made her feel as if she were an intruder? the same little voice of conscience asked.
Well, he hadn’t known how difficult it would be to see another woman using Sky’s things. It would take time to make that adjustment.
But he didn’t have too much time left, he warned himself.
Ketch knew about her child. Mace couldn’t keep the fact buried too much longer. If he didn’t bring it out into the open, the choice of how he handled it would be lost to him.
Hearing the voices and clatter from the kitchen, he hurried to tuck his shirt into his pants and join them for breakfast.
“Well, you think about it, Miz Erin,” Cosi was saying as Mace took his place at the head of the table. “You tell me how many rows you want an’ I’ll make sure that garden land gets plowed.”
“But I don’t know, Cosi,” she admitted, pouring out coffee for Mace without looking at him. “I never had a garden. There’s time yet, isn’t there?”
“My ma always figured two rows of everything for the table and two for canning,” Ray volunteered, reaching for the platter of pancakes.
Seeing there were only two stacks left, Erin rose and went to the stove to start another batch.
“Since when did you two become farmers?” Mace asked in a cold, hard voice.
Erin shot a look over her shoulder at Ray and Cosi. She steeled herself, knowing that Mace would find a way to blame this talk of a garden on her.
“They ain’t,” Ketch put in, having caught Erin’s pleading look. “I’m the one that mentioned it.” He lifted his cup, sipped some coffee and carefully set it down. “I figured with the stalls needin’ cleanin’ again, some of that muck could start goin’ to the garden. Been haulin’ wood ash out there for the past week myself. Straw, ash and manure make the best fertilizer. Land that ain’t been worked is gonna need all the help it can get to produce. You can’t be findin’ no objection to that, boss.”
Mace glared at Ketch. He returned his glare, then grinned.
Erin held her breath, only releasing it a moment later when Mace asked Pete to pass the ham. She flipped the pancakes, willing them to brown quickly so Mace could eat and leave. She had promised the children that if all the chores were finished early, she would fix a cold lunch and leave it for the men so the three of them could pack a picnic and take it up to a special spot that Becky offered to show her.
Erin piled up the finished cakes on the platter, lost in her thoughts. She turned, only to have Mace reach out for the coffeepot on the stove at the same time. His hand smacked the plate, upsetting the pancakes, which fell to the floor. Erin’s startled reaction caused the platter to slip from her hands, so that crockery broke among the mess.
“Of all the damn clumsy useless women!” Mace swore. “Can’t you do anything right? I didn’t hire you to waste food!”
There was more. Erin stopped herself from listening to him. She scooped up the mess with her apron, turning aside Cosi’s offer to help, and dumped it all into the dry sink. Returning to the stove, she began again.
Hired? Had Mace really said that in front of all of than? Heat flamed her cheeks as anger took hold. Never once, not one time could that man find a kind word to say to her. The griddle, she saw, was too hot, for she was almost burning this batch. She didn’t care. After the pancakes had cooked to the accompaniment of the heavy silence behind her, she slid the plate on the table in front of Mace and fled the room before she did something like use the griddle on his thick head.
“Boss, you didn’t have to lace into her like—”
“Cosi, if you want keep your job, shut up!” Mace heaped pancakes he no longer wanted on his plate. He buttered them and poured too much syrup over the stack, realizing that the men were all staring at him. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, refusing to back down and apologize for what he had done. “Well? Is someone gonna answer me?”
“You made Erin sad again,” Becky accused, pushing back her chair and standing. Jake followed his sister’s action.
“Sit down. Both of you,” Mace commanded. “I’ll not be judged by my children in my house. And not at my table.” With a look that dared any to dispute him, he glanced at those around the table, nodding when no one answered him
“Seems more than a few of you forget that. And there’s changes in the day’s work. Ketch, you and Ray haul feed and hay to the cattle in the upper pastures. Cosi, you can cut out those cows for breeding. Maybe it’ll take some of that sass outta that bull. Dishman, you—”
“Pete, Mace. That’s my name. I don’t do the dishes anymore since Miz Erin’s been here.”
“That so?”
“That’s so,” the younger man returned, matching Mace’s glare for glare.
“All right,” he conceded roughly. “Guess a man’s got a right to be called whatever he wants. You’ll finish riding fence. There was talk last night at the meeting about miners cutting some fences and letting cattle out. That’s all we need.”
“That and the Nez Percé getting riled over their land being claimed,” Cosi added, hoping that this talk would channel Mace’s thoughts away from Erin.
“Yeah, that, too.” Giving a pointed look to each of the men’s empty plates, he added, “Since you’re all done eating, I can’t figure why you’re all still sitting here. That’s not what I pay you for.”
Chairs scraped back and with telling shared looks, the men grabbed for hats and jackets.
“One more thing,” Mace said before they left. “There’s no need for any of you to ride back for midday. Becky’ll ride out with your food.” Mace grinned at his daughter, feeling satisfied that he solved the problem of keeping the men away and at the same time pacified Becky by giving her something special to do.
Only Becky wasn’t smiling at him. Her straight brows had come together in a thundercloud. But before Mace could ask her what was wrong, Jake came round to his side.
“Me, too?”
“You’ll stay around here and help me today. That find favor with you, Jake?”
&nb
sp; Jake smiled and nodded. When his father turned his attention back to Becky, he stuck his tongue out at his sister.
Shamefaced when her father caught her doing the same, Becky mumbled that she was sorry.
Mace hid his surprise when Becky began to clear off the table without being asked. And Jake, to his added surprise, hurried to help her.
When Becky came to take his plate, Mace gently cupped her shoulder and stopped her. “You want to tell me why you’re not pleased about taking the meals out to the men? I can recall a little girl who begged to be allowed to do that not so long ago.”
“You spoiled our day.”
“Spoiled your day? How?”
“Erin and Jake and me were going to have a picnic.”
“Oh,” was all Mace could think to say.
“She was gonna finish the story ’bout a puppy,” Jake said, wiggling his way between father and sister. “Can I have a puppy like the boy?”
“Oh, say yes, Papa! A puppy would be so much fun.”
Mace smoothed Becky’s hair, noting the neatly made braid and the sparkle in her eyes. He moved his other hand to Jake’s head, realizing that the boy’s hair wasn’t brushing his shoulders. He supposed he had Erin to thank for getting him to sit still long enough to cut his hair.
He wanted to deny the softening he was beginning to feel toward Erin, but the crack in his veneer had been made. She really cared about his children. She had not rejected them.
Never once had she accused him of tricking her into marriage by lying about his children being half-breeds.
Resting her head on her father’s shoulder, Becky stroked his cheek. “Papa,” she whispered, “will you go find Erin? I’m sorry I made you mad. But you shouldn’t make her cry so much.”
“Do I do that a lot, Becky?” Mace asked with a voice that was suddenly choked.
“Every time you yell at her. I hear her crying in her room at night. She doesn’t know I know. Promise you won’t yell at her again.”
“Promise?” Jake added, climbing up into his father’s lap.
Gifts of Love Page 14
